The Kiss Quotient
by Dedica
Summary: Yuuri is good with numbers and bad with people. For his 30th birthday, Yuuri decided to hire a silver-haired, blue-eyed, escort named Victor. Fic inspired by the book of the same title by Helen Hoang.


Alrighty, so I started this book and by page 16 I was in love and had the idea to write a YOI fic. This chapter was written in a few hours, it's unbetaed, and I have no idea if I will continue it. That being said, let me know if there are any mistakes and if you want more in the comments!

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It was a Sunday, and like most Sundays, Yuuri spent the day at work. Alone. In the office.

It wasn't because he had to work, oh no. It's was because he liked to work. Being a creature of habit, Yuuri liked routine. When the weekend came along, most of his coworkers rejoiced. Yuuri, on the other hand, hated how the two days that started with an S disturbed his beloved routine. So, he didn't let it.

Yuuri loved his job. Every day his career allowed him to play with datasets and create algorithms to help clients better predict customer purchases. Yuuri had a deeper understanding of people based on what they searched when they signed in, and that paid better than the people themselves ever could.

Numbers were the only thing that really made sense to him. His coworker seemed to be driven only by what day of the week it was. Mondays seemed to be the worst, and most of his colleagues complained most of the morning while sharing with the other what and who they did that weekend.

Tuesday somehow was worse than Mondays, since most of the office seemed to drag themselves through the day like they were walking through molasses. No one came into work motivated to do much of anything. Even though everyone complained about Mondays, Yuuri concluded Tuesdays were the least productive day of the week.

On Wednesday's people seemed to perk up, calling it a 'hump day.' Yuuri was incredibly confused the first time someone wished him a happy hump day, assuming it was some kind of sex joke. Thankfully, Google confirmed it wasn't.

Thursday was declared to be Friday junior throughout the office and was the first day most people seemed to come into the office with some semblance of energy. Friday junior also appeared to be the day most of Yuuri's collogues were most productive, so Yuuri made sure to book any important meetings on Thursday to produce the best results.

By the time Friday rolled around, the office was thrumming with excitement to leave for the day and start the weekend. Yuuri's coworkers coveted the weekend like they were sacred days, even though none of his collogues were overly religious.

To Yuuri, it didn't matter what day of the week it was. If he were being honest, if it weren't for his coworker's obsession with the days of the week, Yuuri wouldn't bother keeping track. Every morning started the same for Yuuri.

When he woke up, Yuuri would change out of his pyjamas, put them into the laundry hamper, and take a shower. At precisely 7:10 am every morning, the coffee maker would begin to brew, and by the time he'd gotten out of the shower, dressed, and made his bed, the coffee was ready to be poured.

Every morning, Yuuri made an omelet and toast, the exact same way his mother used to when he lived at home. While he ate, he read the paper just like his father. By 7:45 am Yuuri was out the door, prepared for whatever the elements may bring. Rain or shine, heat wave or blizzard, Yuuri walked to work. He didn't like to drive, and buying a car seemed frivolous. Plus, the twenty-minute walk to and from work was the only exercise Yuuri tolerated in his routine.

The high-rise office building was Yuuri's haven; the right corner office on the thirty-second floor his oasis. Joe or Stephen would be at the security desk, and both men usually greeted him with a small wave. When Yuuri was restless, he blew off steam by baking. Joe and Stephen were always more than grateful to accept Yuuri's anxiety driven baked goods when the rest of the office was on a diet or juice cleanse.

Once inside his office, Yuuri would turn on his computer, enter his password. Then Yuuri would escape to the kitchen with his poodle mug for another cup of coffee and to put his lunch in the fridge. He'd make another two trips to the kitchen throughout the day, one to wash his mug, the other to grab and eat his lunch. Yuuri limited himself to two cups of coffee a day since more than that made him a mess. Since college, caffeine got Yuuri through the tougher days, but as he got older, his body just couldn't handle much more.

Since it was a Sunday, Yuuri expected the office to be empty. Sometimes on Saturdays, some of his collogues would come in for a half day, having to finish a proposal or payroll or something but no one ever showed up on a Sunday. That's why Yuuri was incredibly confused when the once empty kitchenette was filled with balloons, and streamers, and Phichit.

"Happy Birthday!" Phichit shouted at the same time a loud crack reverberated throughout the room as confetti burst from the tube Phichit clutched in his hand. Sparkles of red, blue, and yellow rained down covering every surface of the kitchen like falling snow.

Yuuri hated his birthday and Phichit knew it. The only reason Phichit knew today was Yuuri's birthday was because, after years of begging, Phichit finally gave up asking and simply checked Yuuri's ID one day in the grocery store. After being friends for over eight years, Phichit knew Yuuri better than anyone else in Detroit.

They had been roommates in college and study buddies throughout their . and MBA degrees. Even though they were polar opposites, Phichit claimed to love Yuuri like the brother he never had and stuck by his side long after they graduated. Outside of work, Phichit was Yuuri's second favourite part of his routine. Right now, however, Yuuri was not pleased to see his best friend,

"How did you get up here?"

Phichit's mischievous smile lit up the room brighter than the awful fluorescent tube above their heads. "I told the security guard it was your birthday and I wanted to surprise you."

"But that's against the rules." Yuuri made a mental note to remind Joe of the buildings security policy before he left for the day.

"Oh, lighten up Yuuri!" Phichit chastised. "You only turn thirty once, and as your best friend I won't let you not celebrate!"

"But we have plans tonight?" Phichit made Yuuri got out with him at least once a week to 'socialize,' which often meant bad movies and junk food. They had plans tonight to watch some Hallmark movie about a woman accused of murder by her ex-husband's girlfriend and to eat their weight in ketchup flavoured popcorn.

"And I knew you'd spend most of today stuck to your computer like a leach and I wanted to bring you some birthday cheer!"

Yuuri grimaced, "You really didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did!" Phichit sang as he threw the now empty confetti tube into a bag and fished out a small wrapped box with a blue bow. "Now, I know you hate it when I spend money on things you think are pointless, so I bought you a practical gift this year!" Yuuri didn't like the way Phichit eyes shinned, but he accepted the box and tore through the sparkly pink paper.

At first, the shiny gold box looked pretty. Until Yuuri caught sight of the word TROJAN and realized what was inside the box. "Um, you shouldn't have?"

"You can never have enough condoms." Phichit beamed as he took a seat in one of the orange plastic chairs. "Plus, I'm sure all the ones you have are expired."

"Condoms expire?" Yuuri asked, less because he was concerned that the pack of unopened condoms in his medicine cabinet had expired and more so out of interest.

"Yes!" Phichit reprimanded. "How's tinder working out for you?"

"Fine," Yuuri lied, hopping Phichit would drop the subject. After one too many glasses of wine, Phichit convinced him downloading the app would be a good idea and somehow Yuuri had agreed. Every time he got a notification from the app, Yuuri deleted it without bothering to read what it said. Actually, he hadn't opened the app since that night with Phichit.

"Find anyone you like?" Phichit asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows Yuuri always wished he could mimic.

"Not yet." At least this lie was believable. Yuuri was extremely picky about who he dated. Since college, Yuuri had dated a few people. A couple he met on his own, but most had been blind dates Phichit had arranged.

None of them went past the second date, and Yuuri was okay with that.

Most of the dates had ended because of bad chemistry while the others ended in lousy sex. The last guy Phichit hooked Yuuri up with had been a friend from his gym. Hank had been a hunk and incredibly hung but a totally selfish bed partner. He'd asked Yuuri out for months after their one and only date until Yuuri ran out of the way to turn him down nicely and simply stopped responding to his texts.

That had been months ago, and a small part of Yuuri knew that the reason he'd agreed to download the tinder app was that Yuuri wanted to have sex. It wasn't like men were throwing themselves at him, and the few times he did manage to sleep with someone, the experience had been so lacklustre Yuuri hadn't cared for another.

Now that he thought about it, maybe tinder wasn't the best avenue to look for good sex. All the app showed really was a pretty face and not much else. Plus, it's wasn't liked the app had a rating system on how good a person was in bed, and Yuuri was tired of wasting his time. What Yuuri wanted was a professional. Someone with a proven track record and hopefully clean.

Yuuri wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of hiring an escort before, but now that the idea popped into his head he couldn't not think about it. Since he was a 'workaholic,' Yuuri had money. His job wasn't salary based. On top of his billable hours, Yuuri earned a commission.

"Phichit, do you know anything about escort services?"

It was a Friday, and like most Fridays, Victor spent the day getting ready for work.

Part of what made him so good at his job was his ability always to surprise his clients. He could portray any fantasy and adapt to any situation his clients threw his way. Once upon a time, that thrill made Victor excited for work and inspired some of the most memorable nights of his client's life. He had a no repeat policy which in the beginning frustrated his boss to no end.

Men and women would hound Yakov for months, offering everything and anything for another night with Victor. Every time Victor turned them down his reputation grew until people from out of state began to request his services. People paid a small fortune for Victor, and he was determined to give them their money's worth.

Tonight, he was primed and ready to meet Yuuri Katsuki. He'd bet money that wasn't the guys real name but whoever's tonight's client was he paid up front, in full, with tip, which meant Victor liked him already. The hotel they were meeting in cost a pretty penny which usually meant Victor was in for a delicious meal before the main course.

Victor skimmed his client's profile one more time before exiting the rental car his client had graciously paid for. Yuuri Katsuki, age thirty, black hair, brown eyes, blue glasses. Usually, clients who claimed to be thirty were actually closer to fifty. Anything under forty was often a lie, but Victor never let it show that he cared. He was here for one reason and one reason only, to indulge in his client's fantasies for one night and be gone before morning.

It didn't matter who his clients were or why they hired him. Victor often found it better not to ask. More often than not, Victor had a feeling his clients were married, and the idea of being a homewrecker ate at him. In truth, tonight was just as much a fantasy for Victor as it was for his clients. To lose themselves entirely to one another for a few hours, then never to see each other again. The arrangement lucrative for both parties.

Victor entered the hotel restaurant and skimmed the room for a dark haired, dark eyed male wearing glasses. It turned out, a lot of men in the restaurant were dark haired, dark eyed male wearing glasses. He narrowed down his search by avoiding any of the tables that had other occupants which left only two possibilities. The first was a man that was much closer to the image Victor had painted in his head on who his client would be. The other man was feverishly texting on his phone and fit the bill for who exactly Victor dreamed his clients would be.

People who paid for Victor's services were often older wealthy business typhoons not a sexy twenty-something year old's. With a sigh, Victor began to walk towards the balding male in his mid-fifties and plastered on his best heart-shaped smile. Just as Victor was within earshot of the table a woman in a red dress, who looked to be about the same age as the man pushed back the empty chair and apologized for being late.

Victor could now see the matching gold bands on the couple's ring fingers and assumed the two to be married. In the moments Victor stood frozen watching the couple, he saw the love and familiarity only years together could accomplish. The woman jumped right into talking about her day at the office, while the male looked at his presumed wife like she hung the stars.

A pang of jealous pierced though Victor's heart as he watched the couple laugh at something one of them said. They looked so carefree and happy together, and Victor wondered, not for the first time if he'd ever find someone like that. Victor couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a date that wasn't work-related or a time he'd had sex and not been paid for it. He'd been in the escorting business much longer than most of his collogues, and it was moments like this that he wondered if he should just retire.

Snapping his gaze away from the couple, Victor's eyes met the man he'd assumed wasn't his client. The man looked to be younger than thirty in the dim light of the restaurant, but sometimes looks could be deceiving. He himself seemed to be in his late twenties even though Victor was fast approaching his mid-thirties. The man waved in his direction, and for a moment Victor considered looking behind him assuming the man had to be waving to some other person standing in the middle of the restaurant.

There was no one else around.

The man stood, and for the first time in a long time, Victor felt inspired to make tonight a night neither one of them would forget.

Yuuri kept looking at his phone for the time, half expecting a text that would say his escort had to reschedule tonight. Since Yuuri didn't have the foresight to keep his ideas of hiring an escort to himself, Phichit ran with the idea and did an adsorbent amount of research into the best escort services money could buy. Mr. Silvered-Hair and Blue-Eyes had been Yuuri's birthday gift to himself for the next thirty years.

Although he had money to throw around, Yuuri didn't like to spend it, especially on one night. Once Yuuri opened Victor's profile, he knew he didn't want anyone else. The man looked like god's gift to humanity, and if Yuuri was going to pay for sex, he wanted the best. Apparently, Victor was the best and had enough anonyms testimonials to fill a novel. Phichit made Yuuri pay in full, knowing once Yuuri honestly thought about what he was doing he'd reconsider.

Yuuri watched the door like a hawk, his heart doing summersaults every time a person walked through the doors. Due to his nervousness, Yuuri arrived two hours too early for their eight o'clock reservation. Upon arrival, the server gave him one look and asked if he was waiting for a blind date. Yuuri couldn't remember now if he'd actually said yes or if he'd just nodded, but the server came back with a complimentary glass of champagne to 'settle his nerves.' One drink quickly turned to several, and now Yuuri was sporting a nice buzz.

His phone pinged, and Yuuri thought for sure this was the text saying Victor wasn't coming. Instead, Phichit's name flashes across the screen with too many eggplant emojis to fit in the text window. Of course, the moment Yuuri chose to send a very heated text to his supposed best friend on how he wasn't helping the situation Victor decided to grace the restaurant with his presence.

For once, Yuuri was glad the universe offered him this small reprieve in the form of Phichit's text. Because his attention had been on his phone and not the door, Victor thankfully missed the moment Yuuri laid eyes on the escort. Yuuri gasping and hiding his face behind his menu at the sight of Victor was not one of his greatest moments. Victor was much better looking in person than his picture from the escort website. His testimonials conveniently left that part out.

It took longer than Yuuri was proud of to lower the menu to seek out Victor again. Thankfully, it appeared the man hadn't seen him yet, too focused on another table to have spotted Yuuri yet. Yuuri took a moment to appreciate the man that was going to be his for the evening. The grey suit Victor was wearing was well-tailored mapping out his curves sinfully. The nervousness the alcohol had helped manage before was doing nothing now to calm his racing heart.

When Victor's eyes met his Yuuri fought the urge to bolt. Without knowing what else to do Yuuri waved, hoping his face wasn't betraying his apprehension. Victor had a blank look on his face as if he was staring right through Yuuri. All his worries that Victor would take one look at him and leave came back. This time, Yuuri listened to his instincts to bolt and stood, ready to run out of the restaurant and never look back.

It was that moment that Victor flashed Yuuri the most dazzling smile and made Yuuri think maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

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Did I mention I haven't finished the book yet? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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